"For more years than one cares to remember," mused the Washington Post last week, "the Metropolitan has been passing through Washington on its way to Atlanta." For 19 years, to be precise. Not since Theodore Roosevelt sang off the key in his White House bathroom, not since the Metropolitan meant the tenor glory of Caruso, not since 1908, when the name
Gatti-Casazza sounded more like a college yell than an impresario, had the Metropolitan visited the Capital.
But last week, after dimpled "La Talley" and dainty "La Bori" had kissed their hands a...
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